"Yes."

For a moment there was silence. The canary in its cage hopped
about, a beady inquisitive eye now on one, now on the other of them.

"She's a good girl, Lucy."

"That's not the point, is it?"

"Do you think she cares for him?"

"I don't know. There's some talk of Wallie Sayre. He's there a
good bit."

"Wallie Sayre!" snorted David. "He's never done a day's work in
his life and never will." He reflected on that with growing
indignation. "He doesn't hold a candle to Dick. Of course, if
the girl's a fool--"

Hands thrust deep into his pockets David took a turn about the room.
Lucy watched him. At last:

"You're evading the real issue, David, aren't you?"

"Perhaps I am," he admitted. "I'd better talk to him. I think he's
got an idea he shouldn't marry. That's nonsense."

"I don't mean that, exactly," Lucy persisted. "I mean, won't he
want a good many things cleared up before he marries? Isn't he